Route 30 from Philadelphia
by MaddieNicole
Summary: I watched the episode "Philadelphia" the other day and this story came to me. So essentially this is a post-ep. If you take the time to review help me decide if I should write a sequel, because I don't want to overdo it. Thanks! : ...oh, and it's E/O.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

This is a post-ep to _Philadelphia_

Route 30 from Philadelphia

"We can't refuse."

"I know," Olivia responded. Sighing, she took a sip of her Captain and diet. When they first arrived, they both decided it was a liquor night, verses the usual beers.

"Who do you think will be talking to us?" she asked her partner, staring up at the corner TV which broadcasted the day's news silently.

"Does it matter? The whole thing's bullshit," he told her. Elliot turned towards Olivia, patiently waiting for her to do the same.

"This wouldn't have happened if you just—"

"Just what?" Elliot interrupted softly. He shook his glass and drank the last of his whiskey. He didn't bother to finish his thought, he knew she heard him.

Olivia cursed under her breath and took a larger sip of her drink.

"Liv we know how to do our jobs. We're the top two detectives Cragen has. They aren't going to split us up," he insisted. "Like I said, it's all bullshit so don't sweat it," he told her again, reaching over to squeeze her shoulder. Before dropping his arm he rubbed her back. The last time he did that he had listened to her wish to be a part of a family. _Family is everything_, he had told her. Now, at a small bar at the corner of 42nd and Jackson, he silently wished he could help her find that. He wanted Simon to be innocent as much as her, but they were both wrong; blinded by their hope for her to have a family, just as she wanted.

He faced the mirror behind the bar and studied the top of her head. She was staring at her half full drink, aimlessly stirring her drink. Her shoulders were slumped over as she slouched on her bar stool.

"Maybe not, Elliot. A lot of partners aren't like us."

Leaning slightly towards the left he nudged his shoulders with Olivia. "Like what exactly?"

"How many are psychoanalyzed because their thought to be too close?"

"And how many have a closing record like ours?"

"And how many choose each other over everyone else?"

Elliot studied her as she finished her drink in two big gulps and signaled to the bartender for another.

"A lot."

"Over kids?" she asked him with finality in her voice.

She stared at Elliot who looked at her through narrowed eyes. He picked his drink up off the table and finished it, signaling for another.

"Low blow, Liv."

"It's the truth," she told him. When the bartender returned with Elliot's drink, Olivia ordered one for herself.

"Yeah it is." Elliot got up with his new drink and walked towards the jukebox.

Olivia watched her partner walk away. He was right, it was a low blow but something in her had to say it out loud. As if she needed to justify Cragen's decision to evaluate them, even if she didn't like it. Sighing she got up and walked over to him.

Feeling her approach, he looked up and gave her a tight smile before going back and looking through the selection of music. "Any suggestions?"

"Any Tom Petty?"

"Sure thing."

Once the song came on he joined his partner who was leaning against the vacant pool table. Side by side they sipped their drink and listened to the opening of "Last Dance with Mary Jane."

"Really El? Could you pick something not so…" she let her statement drift away. "Nevermind."

"I'd do it again, you know." He took a swig.

"Please El, you blamed me for it."

Looking at her he said, "You really think I sincerely blamed you? I hated myself for losing that little boy, Liv. But not as much as I would have if I had lost you."

They stood leaning against the felted table in silence. They didn't do this often. They hadn't ever confided in each other as much as they had during the past week.

"I think you just proved Cragen's point, El." Olivia gave him a sideways glance with a small smile on her face.

Once he realized she was only half serious, he chuckled. "Then it's our little secret."

"Okay," Olivia said meekly. She studied her drink, unsure of what else to say.

Taking her glass, Elliot set it on the pool table along with his. He took her hand and twirled her under his arm. Though surprised, she covered it easily and looked up at him through her bangs. Her close-lipped smile told him he was cheering her up a little as planned. At a respectable distance, he danced with her on the small dance floor at the back of the bar.

"So, think we can fool them?" she joked as they swayed to the music.

"Who us? We're pros!" he sarcastically said, earning a laugh from Olivia. The song ended while Olivia was still giggling. They reached for their glasses and headed back to their seats. Back at the bar, they managed to forget about their stressful week, laughing and joking with one another.

"Liv? You wanna get out of here?" Elliot asked her once they finished their second drinks.

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. He realized at that it just sounded as if he was trying to get his partner into bed. Rolling his eyes he said, "My ass is falling asleep on the bar stool Liv, I'm not tired and I'm having fun, can we move this to one of our places where it'll be more comfortable?"

She looked at him with amusement. "Relax El, how about a shot first? Celebrate our reputation of being the best?"

Smiling, he nodded. "Sounds good," he signaled the bartender, asking for a shot of whiskey for himself and rum for Olivia.

When they received the shots, he held up his glass to her. "To eight years and eight more."

"Cheers, partner," Olivia said. The two shared a gaze, for all Olivia knew it lasted anywhere from seconds to minutes, it was as if they saw each other in a new light. _My partner. Partner. Partner. Partner, _she reminded herself. She couldn't look away from his eyes, the same ones she saw on a daily basis. But they were different that night.

Clearing her throat she tore her eyes away and took her shot as Elliot did the same.

***

On the way back to Olivia's place they picked up two bottles of wine. They reached her apartment and shedded their coats. Olivia went to her kitchen and took two glasses out of her cupboard. "Are you hungry?" she asked him when she saw him looking in her fridge.

"Nah, just making sure you are taking care of yourself." He stood up and went to get the bottle opener from the drawer next to her sink.

"Don't think I can grocery shop for myself?" she teased him.

"Not with our schedules," he answered, twisting the opener until he heard the cork pop out.

"Something tells me you don't have much more than condiments and moldy cheese in your fridge either." She watched him fill their glasses.

"At least I have clean boxers," he said, dramatically looking towards her room which had a pile of laundry flowing out of her closet.

"Boxers huh? Always thought you'd be a briefs kind of guy," she said, walking into her living room.

"Ha! Close…boxer briefs." He sat down next to her on the couch. "And you've thought about it? Interesting…" Olivia giggled, scrunching her nose. He looked over at her and smiled, draping his arm along the back of her couch. Gesturing towards the photos scattered on her coffee table, he looked at his partner with questioning eyes.

"Haven't had time to pick them up yet," she told him, looking slightly guilty. "It sucks, you know."

Standing up he began to gather the photos. He stopped suddenly. "Can I?"

She nodded in reply and watched as he cleared the table and placed the items in the box they came in. He went to the kitchen to get the opened bottle and poured more wine in her glass, doubling the amount he initially gave her.

"Trying to get me drunk Stabler?" Olivia joked.

"I think we're both well on our way," he smiled, pouring more wine in his glass as well. When he sat down again he sat closer to her. "You gonna be okay Liv?" Elliot place a hand on her thigh.

Leaning her head on the back of the couch she offered him a lazy smile. "Yeah. Just a shit week," she answered, placing her hand on top of his. He turned his palm up and squeezed her hand. "Thank you," she said.

"Anytime."

"I'd do it again too, you know," she told him as she ran her thumb over his fingers. At her partner's puzzled look, she continued. "I would never take that shot."

Nodding he brought her hand to her lips and kissed them. The two shared a smile and drank their wine, never letting go of each other's hands.


End file.
